


More than One Path

by ShipArmada (SarahSelene)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drugs, M/M, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 04:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11246262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahSelene/pseuds/ShipArmada
Summary: So, back in the old expanded universe of Star Wars there was a spice called Glitterstim. Glitterstim was featured prominently in the Han Solo trilogy as well as other books. Glitterstim was a spice that granted the user psychic powers temporarily, but it came with some pretty steep penalties.





	More than One Path

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [ Magikfanfic ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/magikfanfic/pseuds/magikfanfic) for making me write this.

Chirrut opened his eyes as he exited his meditation and looked up at the ceiling. Nothing. He had felt nothing again. He had successfully slipped into the meditation, cleared his mind, and reached out with his feelings but he had felt… nothing. Chirrut swallowed and he bowed his head. It had been three months since Baze had successfully felt the Force through meditation. There had been stars in Baze’s eyes when he came out, gasping for breath and trying to explain over stumbling words. Chirrut had pulled Baze into his arms, smiled brightly, and told Baze how proud of him he was. Of course Baze would sense the Force first. He was devoted and kind, the best student of them all. It only made sense.

That had been three months ago now, and Chirrut still felt nothing. He had tried every day since then, and all anyone could tell him was to be patient, it would happen in its own time. He just had to be patient.

Chirrut was getting sick of being _patient_.

“Nothing?” Baze’s voice brought him back to the present, and Chirrut turned to look at his friend, sitting across from him. Chirrut bit off the jealousy that was building in his chest and shook his head. Baze’s eyes softened and Chirrut’s anger grew. He hated the pity. He hated it more than the words to be patient. “We’ll try again tomorrow,” Baze said, reaching over and touching Chirrut’s shoulder. It was supposed to be comforting, but instead it made Chirrut tense up, and Baze carefully pulled his hand away. “It will happen in time.”

“Of course,” Chirrut said and then he stood up. “I’m tired.” Chirrut turned and he pulled off his robes, carefully folding them and putting them on the end of the bed before he tugged off his shirt and trousers, reaching for his sleep clothes and changing. “Goodnight.”

Baze let out a long sigh. “Chirrut,” he started, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat as Chirrut turned off the lights with a huff and climbed into bed. The silence stretched between them. “Goodnight,” Baze finally said quietly, and Chirrut listened as he got changed for bed. Chirrut continued to listen long after he was sure Baze was asleep, before he let out a breath and rolled out of the bed.

Chirrut sat on the edge and he tried again, tried to focus on a single glowing ball inside of himself. He imagined the ball in his head, bright white and glowing beyond himself, enough to illuminate the room. He followed the strands of light and… nothing. Chirrut stood up with a huff, grabbing at his robes and getting changed quickly before he charged from his room. He needed room, air, space, anything to clear his head.

Chirrut pulled his robes against him as he walked, trying to push away the cold of Jedha’s night air. He let his mind wander as he walked, following the pathways to the gate and breathing out clouds into the night air that rose and dissipated before the next breath came, absorbed hungrily by the dry air. What if he never found the Force? He had heard of Acolytes leaving the temple because it had taken them too long, because they gave up. Perhaps he was one of those, the ones who were there until the Force called them somewhere else. The temple could be a stopping point. He had always thought training to be a Guardian was his destiny, but perhaps he had been wrong. That would mean that one day he would have to leave Baze.

Chirrut stopped in his tracks. Chirrut let out a stuttering breath as a great force squeezed around his heart, making it ache, tears hitting his eyes. He had never truly considered it before, that there might be a day where he would have to leave Baze. He had not realized the thought _hurt_ so much. He placed a hand on his chest, taking a deep breath in and then letting it out slowly, focusing on the feeling of his chest rising and falling under his hand. He moved to do it again when a voice called out, “Are you alright, Acolyte?”

Chirrut turned to face the sentient who spoke. They were a Twi’lek, tall and thin with gold skin, lit by a single lamp that hung on the wall in the alley. Chirrut had never been shy but there was something about this Twi’lek, perhaps the way he stood or the look in his eyes, that made Chirrut feel uneasy.

The Twi’lek seemed to take his silence as agreement and he continued, “Haven’t communed with the Force yet, have you?” Chirrut’s eyes widened and the man began to smile. “You are not the first Acolyte to face this issue… I have something that can help, if you are interested.”

Chirrut paused. He should turn around, walk back the way he came, go back into the temple and crawl into bed and go to sleep. Instead he took a step closer to the Twi’lek, swallowing down his suspicion building in him. “What is it?”

It turned out to be a small paper package, produced from one of the many pockets in the Twi’lek’s clothes. “It’s called Glitterstim,” he said, sliding the packet into Chirrut’s waiting palm. “It is a spice that allows you to commune with the Force, no meditation necessary.”

“Does it?” Chirrut wondered, looking at the small packet in his hand. It did not look like anything much, like one of the paper envelopes that were passed out to children in festivals that contained candies or sweetened fruits. All it was missing were the gold painted letters or pictures of loth cats on them. “If it does,” Chirrut said skeptically, looking up at the Twi’lek, “why doesn’t everyone take it?”

“If everyone took it and knew of the secrets,” the Twi’lek answered easily, a question he had been asked before surely, “then there would be no need for the practice or meditation. Those who train in the Temple of Kyber do not want people taking the easy way out. But I do believe that this could help you, truly. Do not think of this as a cheat, think of it as an aid. You can find other ways to the Force later, wouldn’t you like to know what it feels like now?”

Chirrut stared at the packet in his hand, rolling it over his palm quietly. “How much is it?” Chirrut asked, watching as the corners of the packet crinkled and came back together.

“No price,” was the other’s answer. “I will consider this my act of charity for the day.”

“What do I do?” Chirrut swallowed, his thumb finding the packet’s seal, nudging the corner of it and pushing it up a bit. The contents shifted inside, moving to the seal.

“You eat it. Just open the packet and put the contents in your mouth. Be careful though, Glitterstim loses its effectiveness if it is exposed to light.”

Chirrut knew he shouldn’t. The Masters preached that hard work was the way to the Force, that those who worked would find themselves in it. But if everything was as the Force willed it, perhaps the Force had willed Chirrut to an answer. Perhaps this was the Force telling him how he could commune with it. It had shown Baze the way, why not him? Who was to say that their paths had to be found the same way? He used his thumb to open the packet before he could question himself further, and dumped the contents into his mouth, swallowing the grainy substance.

It was gross. It made Chirrut think of the many times he had fallen during training, getting a mouthful of sand as his punishment. He had learned quickly after that that the ground was not where he ever wanted to be. Chirrut was considering going to find water and rinse the texture out of his mouth when it hit him. It was a calming wave that flooded out from him and he stumbled back a step. The anxiety, the jealousy, all of it was simply… gone. He felt lighter, like a giant weight had been taken off his shoulders, placed somewhere far away. Where, Chirrut did not care. He found he did not care much about anything in that moment.

“ _I see it’s kicked it_.” Chirrut startled and looked over at the Twi’lek who was still standing there but hadn’t opened his mouth. “ _Isn’t it wonderful_?”

Chirrut blinked slowly, swallowing down another dose of the sandy grit in his mouth. He had heard that in his head. “Am I… hearing your thoughts?” he asked.

“ _Yes, that is the Force_.”

Chirrut tried to think back on his teachings, on if anyone had said anything about being able to read the thoughts of others. Moving through his brain for the memories though was like walking through pudding. The thoughts just would not come to the forefront. The only thought that did come to mind was that he should be more worried about it. He was not. “I have to go tell Baze,” he said before he realized he had the thought.

“ _Of course_ ,” the Twi’lek’s voice slid through his head. “ _Feel free to see me again if you want more_.”

Chirrut blinked at him and nodded before he turned and ran back for the temple. The run back took less time than his walk into the city, and when he got to their shared room he went straight for Baze’s bed. He knelt on the floor next to him and shook Baze’s shoulder quickly. “Baze,” he said quietly. Startling his friend, he had discovered in the past, was a bad idea. “Baze, please, wake up.”

Baze shifted on the bed, letting out a small groan as he was pulled from sleep. “ _Why won’t he just let me sleep?_ ” came Baze’s thoughts, and Chirrut felt a thrill go through him. Baze’s sombrous voice echoed into the back of his head and filled his mind. It found little niches in his body and made their home there. “Chirrut?” Baze asked quietly, this time in the real world and outside of Chirrut’s head. “Chirrut, is something wrong?”

“No, no no no,” Chirrut said, and was suddenly grinning down at his friend. “No, I just. I felt it. I felt the Force. I _feel_ the Force.”

“You feel it right now?” Baze asked, sitting up. Questions rushed through Baze’s head, questions that went by too fast for Baze to follow. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You look a little flushed.” And then a single thought pushed through the questions as Baze’s hand reached up and touched Chirrut’s forehead. “ _He looks cute when he’s excited_.”

“You think I’m cute?” Chirrut blurted out, his grin growing across his face.

“What?” Baze asked, staring at him. “How-“

Chirrut decided he was not going to think anymore. He leaned forward and closed the distance between them quickly, catching Baze’s lips with his own and pushing up against his chest until Baze relented and laid down on the bed. Chirrut caught none of Baze’s thoughts, his own head spinning too much from the rush of it all. Baze’s lips were chapped and rough and Chirrut could not remember the last time he had felt something so good. A moan escaped, deep and needy, and Chirrut was shocked to discover it had come from his own throat. He felt he should have been embarrassed. He was not.

“Chirrut,” Baze finally managed to get out, breaking the kiss and panting hard, looking up at Chirrut. Underneath Chirrut’s hip bone he could feel how much Baze had enjoyed the kiss, and Chirrut’s grin was born anew. Chirrut’s hands slid over Baze’s broad chest, wanting to touch every inch of Baze’s skin with warm seeking fingers. “Chirrut what is wrong with you?”

That snapped Chirrut out of his reverie, though he could not feel angry or upset about it. He wondered for a moment why that was, but then moved past it. “Nothing is wrong with me!” he said, his voice sounding infinitely bright even in his own ears. “I am just excited, I am happy. Is there something wrong with being excited or happy?”

“No, of course not.” The huff that Baze let out was long and annoyed, and at any other time it would have annoyed Chirrut, but Chirrut could not be bothered to be annoyed. “Chirrut, you’re acting strangely. More than usual, I should say…” Baze’s hand came up, gently touching Chirrut’s cheek. Chirrut leaned into it, nestling his face into Baze’s hand.

“Just excited,” Chirrut said, and his lips kissed their way over Baze’s hand happily. He nipped at the palm of Baze’s hand gently, a shiver of excitement going through him, before he pulled away. “You’re right, this feeling is indescribable, I’m almost mad that you tried to keep it from me.” Baze spluttered, and Chirrut could hear the numerous objections to Chirrut’s words in his head, but Chirrut silenced them all by kissing him again. “It is late,” Chirrut said, breaking the kiss and then rolling off Baze to press into his side. “We should sleep.”

Baze let out a huff, and his arm slid under Chirrut’s neck and pulled him close, fingers stroking at Chirrut’s side. “You expect me to sleep after all you just did?”

“Yes,” Chirrut answered simply, kissing his shoulder. “Sleep, Baze Malbus.”

/

The world was grey. It was the only real way to describe it. When Chirrut woke up the next morning the world had lost some of its color, it dragged on him, pulling at his limbs and feeding into the darker thoughts in Chirrut’s mind, the ones that Chirrut did not like to acknowledge or think on. He went through his day in this state of gray. He smiled when Baze smiled towards him, small spark of affection hitting when Baze smiled, but then when Baze turned away the smile would be gone, and Chirrut would go back to feeling grey.

Chirrut wondered why Baze had not warned about this.

Evening came back and Chirrut walked back with Baze to their shared room, his hand sliding into Baze’s easily, as if it always belonged there, but there was no rush in it, Baze’s thumb sliding over his own did not illicit the same spark Chirrut had imagined it would. Chirrut’s heavy heart was lifted some when Baze kissed him in the darkness of their room. Bodies pushed together and hands discovering new things about each other. It was amazing and exhilarating but it was also not enough. Chirrut did not know how to make it enough. He felt his frustration build, and long after they had finished kissing, and after Baze had gone back to sleep, Chirrut got out of the bed and pulled up his own, finding the small bag of Jedhan knots underneath.

He spent ten of them just to feel colorful again.

/

It took a month for Chirrut to realize that something was wrong.

 “Chirrut?” Baze asked him when he caught Chirrut staring out the window, up into the sky. The worry was plain in Baze’s voice, a gentle softening on the edges and a larger hitch at the end of the question. Chirrut barely stirred when he felt Baze’s hand on his arm. “Is everything alright?”

“I wish you would stop asking me that,” Chirrut said, amping up the agitation in his voice to counteract the lethargy in his bones.

The huff that left Baze’s chest was deep and annoyed, a sign of the actual anger Baze often kept buried in his chest, afraid to let out and hurt something or someone. “I will stop asking it when I feel that everything is alright again.” Baze shifted and sat next to Chirrut, his hand sliding down until he took Chirrut’s hand. “You haven’t been eating as much, and you always look so distant. You smile and laugh when you know that I’m looking, but stop the instant you think I can’t see you anymore. I’m worried, Chirrut. Please, tell me what is wrong…”

Chirrut did not know how to answer, did not know how to explain the deep pit of apathy that lived inside him whenever he had gone to long without touching the Force. He did not remember Baze going through this after he had touched it, but Baze never was one to show pain. Perhaps this was normal. Perhaps he should talk to the masters and find ways of coping with it. He did not want to. He just wanted to sit. Instead of telling Baze the truth, he came up with a lie. “I believe it is the weather affecting me.” Chirrut had heard of other sentients being affected by the weather, how deep fog would make them feel morose or the sun would make them jubilant. It was an easy lie to fall into.

“The weather?” Baze asked skeptically, and though Chirrut did not turn to look at him, he knew Baze was now looking at the sky as well.

“Yes,” Chirrut said, his hand gently squeezing Baze’s. “The sky has been grey with clouds for several weeks now. I wish it would just rain and get it over with.”

“Chirrut…” Baze’s voice was cautious, not wanting to earn Chirrut’s ire. “Chirrut, the sky is blue. Bright blue. It’s brighter than I have seen it in years.”

Now Chirrut did turn to Baze, eyebrows coming together. “What are you talking about?” Chirrut turned and looked back at the grey sky, trying to see the blue that Baze was describing. “Baze, if this is some sort of prank-“ Chirrut did not get to finish his thought, Baze’s rough hand coming up and grabbing Chirrut’s jaw, yanking Chirrut to face Baze.

“What is wrong with your eyes?”

Chirrut pulled away, with a short growl. Baze should know that Chirrut did not like to be grabbed like that, not outside the training ring. “What are you going on about this time, Malbus?” Chirrut saw the pain on Baze’s face at that, but Baze said nothing, staying focused.

“There’s something wrong with your eyes,” Baze said, standing up and grabbing Chirrut’s arm. “We’re going to the healers, now.”

“Baze!” Chirrut complained, trying to tear his arm away from Baze. “Baze, let me go! I’m not going to the healers!”

Baze did not listen, dragging Chirrut out of the room and down the steps to the healers.

/

Chirrut was going blind. There was nothing that could be done about it now, not on a small moon like Jedha, his vision would most likely be gone before he could reach any of the large facilities. He told them everything, about the Twi’lek in the markets, about the strange and mesmerizing drug that let him touch the Force, about how he went every night because the daytime was so hard to live with.

Then he learned the truths: Glitterstim is not the same as communing with the Force. Glitterstim took more than it gave. The effects of losing his sight had started off gradual, but the more he took the faster it became. He would have to be detoxed, and it would be difficult and painful, but he would live. He was lucky the Glitterstim had only taken his vision and not his life.

Chirrut was not so sure about the last one.

He was not going to be sent out of the temple. He would stay there to recover and to heal. He would not be allowed to leave at that time, and a guardian would always be near him. Adaptations would be made, an echobox would be procured and they would start training with it as soon as it arrived. Once the Healers deemed him ready, he would go back to his training as if nothing had happened. Except everything had happened, and Chirrut did not know how to live with that yet.

He sat in the infirmary, staring at his hands. The grey he felt inside him had become a darker, deeper black, one he had never felt before, one he wanted to run away from. He wanted desperately to run away, to leave the temple and go to the market. He desperately wanted to find the sentient he had become dependent on and lose himself again, to feel happy again.

Chirrut looked up when he heard the door open, expecting to see Healer Morel coming in to give Chirrut more bad news, but instead it was Baze. Chirrut looked away quickly before he could see the pity in Baze’s eyes. He swallowed as he listened to Baze walk across the room, walk towards him, and Chirrut spoke before Baze could start attempting to comfort him, “You must think I am some sort of fool, not being able to tell the Force from a doppelganger.”

Baze’s footsteps hesitated a moment, and Chirrut’s heart squeezed. Tears prickled at Chirrut’s eyes and he suddenly wished he had not stopped Baze, had allowed him to comfort. Chirrut needed that comfort right now, he realized. Then Baze was moving forward again, and Baze’s heavy form sat next to Chirrut before Baze’s arms gathered Chirrut up and pulled him close. “I do believe you are a fool,” Baze rumbled out, holding Chirrut close to him. “But not because you could not understand the difference… there is no shame in ignorance, Chirrut.”

Chirrut’s wet laugh escaped him without warning and he pressed his face into Baze’s chest to try to hide the escaping tears. He knew Baze would see them anyway, but Chirrut did not have much dignity left and he wanted to hold onto it for just a little longer.

“Chirrut…” Baze said quietly, hand sliding over Chirrut’s short hair. “I am sorry.”

Chirrut hesitated before pulling away, looking up at Baze and trying not to think on how he looked less saturated than Chirrut’s memory of him. “Baze, what could you possibly have to apologize for?”

“I did not see how much pain you were in,” Baze said gently, reaching down and taking Chirrut’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I did not see how much not connecting with the Force hurt you. I did not see your suffering. I knew something was wrong, but not the extent. I should have-“

Chirrut smacked Baze on the back of the head, a little awkward from their position but worth it. “Baze Malbus, you carry too much.” Chirrut took a deep breath, and he squeezed Baze’s hand with his other. “You are not to blame for this, only I can have that blame. I wanted an easy solution and I thought I had found it. Now I am paying for it. It went against everything I have ever learned and I did it anyway… I will not have you taking the blame for my mistakes.”

Baze let out a huff and Chirrut knew that he had not assuaged Baze’s guilt, but at least the words had been said. They sat quietly for a moment and Baze pulled Chirrut closer with his arm. “Do you actually love me?” Baze asked quietly.

“Yes,” Chirrut answered without any hesitation. “Yes, I do. I am sorry that I… I’m sorry.”

Baze let out a small rumble. Chirrut knew that Baze’s instinct was to say that it was alright, but that nothing in this situation was alright. Baze forgave him though. “No more lies,” Baze said instead, the hand around Chirrut shifting to his back and rubbing circles there. “If we want this to work there can be no more lies between us.”

“Agreed…” Chirrut said, and he rested his head on Baze’s shoulder. The gnawing pit inside him was still there, but it no longer seemed such an impossible task to cross it. Perhaps the bit would no longer be there. “…My recovery is going to be difficult. The healers say that it will not be easy for myself or anyone around me…”

“That is alright,” Baze answered.

“And they said that I may always want to go back to it,” Chirrut said. “That I will always be tempted to go back to it…”

“I can help keep the temptation away,” Baze said quietly, pressing a kiss into Chirrut’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Chirrut said, his voice cracking before the words were finished.

“I know,” Baze responded, another kiss placed into Chirrut’s hair. Chirrut felt his eyes close, more tears rushing down his face, and he pressed back into Baze’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” Baze whispered to Chirrut, and the tone drew up more tears, “You can cry, I am here…”

The road ahead was not going to be easy, these would not be the last tears Chirrut would shed, but despite the pain, despite the tears and sobs that left him, Chirrut felt a spark of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](shiparmada.tumblr.com) if you ever get the chance!


End file.
